


Breadwinner

by entwashian



Category: Psych
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entwashian/pseuds/entwashian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Twas the morning before the morning before Christmas, and all through Gus' apartment <br/>A creature was stirring up some trouble for his own amusement</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breadwinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



Gus reached into the refrigerator for milk and eggs, and when he shut the door, a figure stood on the other side.

Gus screamed and dropped the carton of eggs.

“So, what are we having for breakfast?” Shawn asked.

Gus clucked his tongue. “I don’t know about you, but **I** am having French toast.” He bent down to pick up the dropped carton. “ _If_ I have any eggs left,” he muttered to himself, lifting the lid and poking through the contents.

“Aw, Gus, don’t be the rattling chains of Marley’s ghost! It’s Christmas Eve Eve, man, or have you forgotten the reason for the season?”

“Baby Jesus doesn’t care if I provide meals to the grown-ass man who keeps breaking into my apartment, Shawn.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend,” Shawn said, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “What Baby Jesus wants more than anything if for you to share some _pain per due_ with your very good friend who would never break into your apartment because he has his own key.”

“Baby Jesus seems overly concerned about the state of your stomach.” Gus pulled a jar out of the spice rack and set it on the counter. “And for the record, it’s pronounced _pain perdu_. ‘Pan,’ as in, ‘I am going to make French toast for myself with this frying _pan_ ,’ and not ‘pain,’ as in, ‘I will not be making any French toast for my _pain_ -in-the-neck friend.’”

“Where is your Christmas spirit?” Shawn asked, shaking his head sadly.

“I’m saving it for December 25th.” Gus saw Shawn reaching for the supplies set out on the counter and smacked his hand away.

“Hey, Gus!” Shawn said brightly. “We should do the cinnamon challenge!”

“The what?” Gus asked distractedly as he measured ingredients into a mixing bowl.

“You record yourself eating a whole spoonful of cinnamon and then post the video on YouTube.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“It’s a badge of honor, Gus! The record is some guy who held the cinnamon in his mouth for like five minutes. But I bet you could last _way_ longer than that.”

“My stamina is unrivaled,” Gus said, smirking.

“And look what I just happen to have here!” Shawn said. “A whole spoonful of cinnamon. Quick, put it in your mouth!”

“I thought you were supposed to record it,” Gus said.

“You know what, buddy, you’re absolutely right,” Shawn said, pulling out his phone. “I wouldn’t want anyone to miss out on seeing your moment of glory.” His finger swiped the screen of his phone, and he held it aloft. “Ready.”

Gus lifted the spoon – which was heaped high with a small mound of cinnamon – to his mouth. He checked to make sure he was at a good angle to the camera lens in Shawn’s phone. He put the cinnamon into his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> [The Cinnamon Challenge](https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=the+cinnamon+challenge). Shawn, how _could_ you?!
> 
> Written for the prompt: "the french toast fiasco."


End file.
